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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24236569">and they call magic by its name</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravnesreyes/pseuds/ravnesreyes'>ravnesreyes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But they don't know that, Destination Wedding, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Jon Snow and the Starks Are Not Related, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Smut, Weddings, and they both want it to be more than just a vacation fling, basically Jon and Sansa want to hook up, this is my first time writing smut and you can probably tell so pls be nice to me</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:34:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,803</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24236569</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravnesreyes/pseuds/ravnesreyes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Jon," Sansa whined, "someone will see us." </p><p>As she said it, she eagerly tilted her head back against the hotel hallway wall in order to offer his questing mouth better access to her throat.</p><p>She hadn't exactly planned to have a hook up at her brother and best friend’s destination wedding, but here she was being pressed into a wall by Jon Snow, Robb's best friend and best man. </p><p>Her previous plans were starting to look pitiful compared to the feeling of his firm chest flush against hers.  </p><p> <br/><em> Or</em></p><p> <br/>Jon and Sansa have liked each other for awhile now, and what better place than Robb and Margaery's Summer Isles destination wedding to finally act on those feelings?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Robb Stark/Margaery Tyrell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>111</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>and they call magic by its name</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This the first fic over a 2.5k words that I have ever finished, and I have been working on it for a long time. I started it several years ago and then let it sit untouched for awhile. I picked it back up a couple months ago and then started working on it more consistently in April because I wanted to finish a fic during social distancing (not originally this fic but you have to have two projects going so you can procrastinate on one with the other). </p><p>I hope you all like it! </p><p>Title comes from the poem "Hippolyta Speaks to the Gods" by Nikita Gill</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Jon," Sansa whined, "someone will see us." </p><p>As she said it she eagerly tilted her head back against the hotel hallway wall in order to offer his questing mouth better access to her throat.</p><p>She hadn't exactly planned to have a hook up at her brother and best friend’s destination wedding, but here she was being pressed into a wall by Jon Snow, Robb's best friend and best man. </p><p>Her previous plans were starting to look pitiful compared to the feeling of his firm chest flush against hers.  </p><p>"Don't care," he mumbled, causing his beard to rasp pleasantly against her neck. She shivered while he bit down lightly where her neck met her collarbone. </p><p>"You will care when Robb turns the corner and sees us," she huffed. "Or my father." </p><p>That got Jon's attention. He froze against her and groaned. </p><p>"We should go back in," he said defeatedly. </p><p>Sansa pouted at him as he pulled his head back, but didn't step away from her yet. How dare he ruin her plans so completely and then leave her hot and bothered without fulfilling her new - much more exciting - plans? </p><p>Jon's mouth quirked. His thumb brushed along her protruding lower lip. </p><p>"The party is almost over, let's just go upstairs. No one will miss us," she said. </p><p>She tugged on his sport coat coyly, trying to tempt him even though she knew what his answer would be. She shouldn’t have brought up her brother. </p><p>He stilled her hands, but kept them pressed against him and laughed in disbelief. "The best man and a bridesmaid-slash-sister-of-the-groom? I'm surprised we aren't already being missed." </p><p>Sansa let her head fall back against the wall with a light thunk. She knew he was right. They couldn't just go galavanting off two days before the wedding. All the guests had finally arrived - unlike the wedding party who had been there for two days already - and the festivities were kicked off with a cocktail party that had lasted well past cocktail hour. </p><p>"Fine," Sansa sighed. She smirked as an idea took shape in her mind, and she extricated her hands from Jon’s to run her hands down his chest to tug at his belt. "But don't be surprised to see me in that black bikini I was wearing on Tuesday at the beach tomorrow morning." </p><p>Jon groaned again, sounding pained by the thought. He kissed her smirking mouth quick and hard before she darted under his arm to the bathroom to check her hair and make up, making sure to toss her hair haughtily for his benefit as she walked away.</p><p><br/>
</p><p>Sansa checked over her appearance in one of the Golden Shore Resort’s opulent bathrooms. Her lipstick was shockingly only semi-smeared and easily fixable. Her hair on the other hand, desperately needed a brush that she did not have. She smoothed it down the best she could, but she was sure Arya at the very least would be suspicious. Gods help her if Margaery pulled herself away from mingling with her guests long enough to take a good look at her. </p><p>She blew out a deep breath and leaned back against the counter. She thought back to her hallway make out session with Jon and felt her cheeks heat. She had never been kissed so well in her life. </p><p>To think, just a few days ago she and Jon had been sharing a car from the airport in complete silence.</p><p>Although, at least on her part, the silence had been comfortable. She hadn't felt pressure to make conversation after a long flight. She always felt comfortable with Jon. She never had to put on a smile for him, she could just be.</p><p>And she was willing to admit to herself that she had looked at him out of the corner of her eye quite a bit during that car ride. He had been in Mereen working on a new contract for his aunt's company, and it had been nearly six weeks since she had seen him. He manage to look better than she remembered. Fantasized about, really.</p><p>Ever since she returned home from college in the South, Sansa had a new appreciation for things of the North. One of those things happened to be Jon Snow. He wasn't what she imagined for herself as a naive little girl, but she wasn't a girl anymore. </p><p>And Jon was no longer the lanky, quiet boy from her childhood. </p><p>Jon was handsome in a way she hadn't learned to appreciate until blonde, blue-eyed men like Joffrey and Harry consistently disappointed her. His dark curls, full lips, and grey eyes were all features that she now considered with lust rather than distaste. </p><p>And Jon's other qualities were what she had always longed for. Someone kind, gentle, strong. Someone who would be there for her. It also didn’t hurt that from what the gossip she had heard said, Jon Snow definitely knew how to please a lady. </p><p>She bit her lip to suppress a giddy smile. She had a party to get back to. And a bikini to slip into bright and early tomorrow.</p><p> *****</p><p>Jon awoke at 9:30 the next morning to his scheduled phone alarm. He promised Robb the day before he would join him for a workout in the hotel gym, but that had been before Sansa tormented him with the image of her in that sinful black bikini that she had worn the first day of their stay. </p><p>After flying into the Summer Isles from Mereen, where he had been with Dany for business for an agonizing six weeks, Jon was surprised to see Sansa in the customs line ahead of him. He had thought that she flew in the day before with Robb and Margaery. </p><p>He had sent her a quick text and watched as she scanned the area for him. When she saw him she beckoned him towards her. Jon had only hesitated for a second before jumping the line to join her. </p><p>They chatted idly while waiting to go through customs and met each other at the exit once they both retrieved their luggage without having agreed upon it. </p><p>Their shared cab ride had been quiet, but the instant they pulled up to the hotel Sansa had been all smiles and chatter; gushing about the location, the beach, how excited she was to spend some time relaxing. Jon thought her excitement had been rather adorable. It was nice to see her enthusiasm; it reminded him of a younger Sansa, who  used to gush and squeal over just about everything even though her siblings loved to tease her over it. </p><p>When she turned to him in the lobby after they checked in and demanded that he join her on the beach, he had agreed despite his dreams of a late afternoon nap because he didn't have the heart to dampen her good mood. </p><p>He was eternally indebted to his past self for that good choice because seeing Sansa splayed out on a towel in her black string bikini, red hair fanned out around her and sweat dampening her temples was a vision he could never forget. </p><p>And he was going to see her like that again today.</p><p>He felt a tug of interest low in his stomach at the thought, but he ignored it in favor of grabbing his phone.</p><p><strong>Jon: </strong>		You up?<br/>
<strong>Robb: </strong>	Ask me again in an hour<br/>
<strong>Jon:</strong> 		Alright well don't expect me to join you in the gym. I'm gonna hit the beach<br/>
<strong>Robb: </strong>	Marge and I will probably head down there later </p><p>With that settled, Jon rolled out of bed and searched for his swimsuit. Sansa wasn't typically the earliest of risers, but he knew from summers at the community pool that she preferred to be outside early when the sun wasn't too intense for her fair complexion. </p><p>He threw on his suit and grabbed a towel from the bathroom before going down to the cafe to grab some breakfast and a couple of waters to bring with him onto the beach. </p><p>The resort's private beach wasn’t very crowded - it catered more towards couples and retirees than families with kids who were eager to spend every second in the ocean - but it still took Jon a moment to locate Sansa. She was laying under an umbrella to the far right of the path he emerged from, a beacon of red hair and exposed glistening skin. </p><p>As he approached her he noticed that she had a towel draped over her face to block out the sun, and he smirked as a wicked idea formed in his mind. </p><p>While he was still far enough away, he leaned down to slip off his shoes and quiet his steps. Then, he shifted his belongings so that he could crack open one of the ice cold water bottles.</p><p>She didn't give any indication that she knew he was approaching, and Jon hesitated briefly. If she was asleep did he really want to wake her?</p><p>
  <em>Yes, he did. </em>
</p><p>Once he stood next to her, he took a moment to appreciate whatever genius invented bikinis. Her pale, slightly sun-freckled skin contrasted perfectly with the black of her bikini. Her red hair stood out even more against the contrast. Not to mention her legs that stretched for days, her barely concealed chest, and the visibility of her wolf tattoo that started just below her top and stretched onto her side. </p><p>He had dreams about that tattoo. </p><p>Jon turned himself back to the task at hand, before his ogling - and his response to said ogling - became too noticeable. In one quick movement he tipped a third of his opened water bottle onto her stomach. </p><p>As soon as the icy splash hit her, Sansa squirmed away from him and onto the sand with a sharp little screech that made Jon snort with laughter. The towel slid off her face and she whipped her head around to glare.</p><p>She huffed. “You are <em>such</em> an ass, Jon Snow.”</p><p>“You looked like you could use a little cooling down. If anything, I was being helpful,” he said, mock innocence tinging his voice. </p><p>“You know, I used to wonder how you could go along with Robb and Theon’s stupid antics in high school,” she said pointedly. He just laughed harder.  </p><p>She rubbed the water off of her stomach with the discarded towel and then chucked it at his chest. Jon let it drop back to the ground and the rest of his things followed. He laid out his towel next to hers and stretched himself out with an appreciative sigh. </p><p>“I’m slightly offended by that, but too tired to get into it.” </p><p>“Then what are you doing down here?” she asked with a playful glint in her eyes. “You could have spent the whole day asleep until the bachelor party tonight.” </p><p>Jon gave her another once over before meeting her eyes, letting her see the desire he knew was there as plain as day. “There are much more interesting things I would rather be doing.” </p><p>Sansa blushed under his gaze, but it didn’t stop her from meeting his eyes boldly. She  offered him that same sinful smirk from the previous night, and it made him want to pull her into his lap right there on the beach. Yes, he would <em>definitely</em> rather be doing something else right now.</p><p> *****</p><p>Jon had been sharing her umbrella for over an hour, casually chatting and relaxing, when Robb and Margaery made their way down to the beach to join them. </p><p>(And if Sansa had strong-armed him into letting her get his back with sunscreen, well who could take one look at him in his short, tight swim trunks and possibly blame her? After last night, she very much wanted an excuse to touch him again. And if the way he shivered when she put her hands on him was anything to go by, he wanted to touch her too.)</p><p>“Good morning, lovebirds” Sansa called when they got close enough. “Had a nice little lay in, did you?” </p><p>Robb shot her a dirty look, but Marg just grinned. </p><p>“Oh, yes the nicest,” she responded. </p><p>“Gross,” Jon muttered while Sansa laughed.  </p><p>Margaery was always rather shameless about her sex life, and it had certainly taken some getting used to for all of them when she and Robb got together, but now Sansa preferred to think about it in terms of Margaery’s happiness. And if that didn’t work plugging her ears and humming loudly did the job just as well. </p><p>“Oh, please Jonathan,” Marg scoffed as she laid out her towel on the other side of Sansa while Robb put up another hotel umbrella. “I think at this point you’ve heard worse.” </p><p>“Not because I want to,” Jon shot back. “If I never heard another word about your sex life I would still know far more than I ever want to.” </p><p>“Don’t be such a baby,” Sansa teased. Jon quirked an eyebrow at her behind his sunglasses. “We’re all adults with active sex lives and can talk about it in a mature manner.” </p><p>“No, we can’t.” </p><p>“We are, are we?” </p><p>“Ew, please don’t Sans.” </p><p>Sansa just rolled her eyes, far too amused by the boys’ discomfort, and stood up. Out from under the umbrella, she faced away from them and stretched a bit. She watched Jon surreptitiously from behind her sunglasses as she did; hiding a smile as he tried to refrain from checking her out. He caught her looking at him and winked - poorly. And somehow that really worked for her. </p><p>Gods, he would be the death of her. </p><p>“It’s getting so hot," she said. "I'm gonna get in the water for a bit." </p><p>“I’ll come with you,” Jon said, standing. Sansa stood aside and let him lead down to water, taking the moment to return the favor. His ass in those swim shorts really was bordering on obscene.</p><p><br/>
</p><p>Jon and Robb were tossing a football in the thigh-deep water while Sansa and Margaery dried off on their towels before they went inside for lunch. </p><p>“You know,” Marge started casually. “If you and Jon don’t want your entire family involved in whatever you have going on, I would suggest taking your flirtations down a notch.” </p><p>Sansa whipped her head to look at Margaery (and away from staring at the lines of Jon’s arms as he caught and threw to Robb with ease). “Gods above, you are like a sex bloodhound! You’re worse than Theon!” </p><p>“So there has been sex then?” her friend asked. Her voice was so gleeful and smug, Sansa was surprised she didn’t start clapping right there.</p><p>“No! We just made out a little last night during the party,” Sansa said, pointedly looking out into the distance away from both Jon and Margaery. “We both, um you know, wanted to last night, but we figured we would be missed and went back to the party instead.” </p><p>“Why in seven hells did you do that?”</p><p>“What do you mean why? Somebody would have noticed we were gone. We’re not exactly unimportant guests.” </p><p>“So?” Marge retorted. “You two have been playing this game for ages. You send each other coy looks and flirt and tease, and now that it's finally going somewhere you’re worried about people noticing you’re not at a silly little party?”</p><p>“That silly little party was for your wedding, and you were one of the people who I didn’t want to realize we were gone. For this <em>exact</em> reason!”</p><p>“Did you really think I didn’t notice the two of you go missing and Jon coming back half an hour later with sex hair, looking like someone had just denied him his favorite dessert?” Margaery gave her an incredulous look. </p><p>Sansa rolled her eyes. </p><p>“I just didn’t want it to be too much, too fast. It’s been awhile for me; since Harry. We tease each other sometimes sure, but as far as I know this is just a casual wedding fling for him." And Sansa wanted more. </p><p>To Sansa’s confusion and annoyance, Margaery laughed. </p><p>“Please, Sansa," she scoffed. "Jon isn’t in it for some quick fuck in the coat closet. When have you ever known him to be casual? He’s more of a monogamist than you are!” </p><p>Jon had only had three serious girlfriends in his life, and if Sansa remembered right, one casual arrangement with a friend of his aunt’s, around the same time that she had been seeing Harry, that had put him off dating ever since. </p><p>“I guess, but maybe he just wants to get over his dry spell, you know? Get back in the saddle with someone he trusts and has chemistry with before trying his luck for real. Maybe that’s what I should do, too.” </p><p>She glanced at Jon again, only to find that Robb had waded farther out and Jon was left looking at her. She felt her heart flutter. She tried to squash it down. They were just getting back in the saddle with each other. He smiled bashfully when he realized he had been caught, and gave a playful salute before turning to follow Robb. Why did even that make her bite her lip in longing?</p><p>“Hmmm, sounds like you are doing some serious mental gymnastics in order to avoid talking about your feelings,” Margaery said. </p><p>Sansa flicked sand at her. </p><p>“Now, let's go. I’m starving and I need plenty of food in me if I don’t want my bachelorette party to be a repeat of my 27th birthday, or my 26th, or your 26th.” </p><p>Sansa threw her head back and laughed, and then let Marge pull her up off of her towel. She missed the way Jon smiled at the sound.</p><p> *****</p><p>Sansa appraised her appearance in the floor length mirror of her room. She was due down in the lobby for Margaery’s bachelorette party in a few minutes and was putting the finishing touches on her outfit. </p><p>She was wearing a black matching two piece set made up of an off-the-shoulder crop top and tight skirt that was short enough to make her hope that she didn’t run into her parents in the lobby. It was not something she would pick for herself for her usual nights out, but this was a special occasion after all. </p><p>Sansa thought back to the way Jon had reacted to her black bikini, and smiled giddily at herself in the mirror. Black had always been his color and he seemed to appreciate her in it. </p><p>It made her feel alluring and sexy to know that his eyes would be drawn to her, even if tonight didn’t end the way they had both wanted last night to end.</p><p>There was a knock on the door; Sansa grabbed her old standby clutch before going to the door. </p><p>“Hey,” she said, surprised. Jon was standing outside of her room, dressed in dark wash skinny jeans and a tight black t-shirt. </p><p>He didn’t answer, but the way his gazed raked up and down her appreciatively was answer enough. She could feel his stare like a touch, trailing over her skin and leaving a burning in its wake. </p><p>“Gods help me,” he finally said, eyes locked on her legs. </p><p>Sansa giggled and swung her hotel door shut. </p><p>“You look nice, too,” she teased. </p><p>When Jon’s eyes met hers, she was surprised and pleased by the heated look in them. He reached for her hand, tugging her towards him gently. She allowed herself to be pressed against him as intimately as they had been the night before. The firm lines of his body against her made her shiver, as did the rasp of his beard against her neck as he leaned in to whisper to her. </p><p>“Save a dance for me tonight, hmm?” </p><p>Sansa nodded, and tried to stop herself from pressing harder into the heat of his chest. She bit her lip around a moan as Jon placed a light kiss on her neck. She felt like she was on fire, blazing from this heat she had never seen before in Jon. The electric current of want that passed between them since they had started this trip was honestly a shock to her. She suspected that they would be good together, but she could have never guessed how good - how alive - he made her feel. </p><p>“That’s my girl,” he said, voice low and dark with the same heat that was pounding in Sansa’s veins. The same heat that made her practically blind and deaf to anything but the way ‘my girl’ sounded on Jon’s tongue.</p><p> *****</p><p>“Hey,” Arya’s voice cracked like a whip between them, disrupting the tension and causing them to pull apart from each other. </p><p>Sansa had the uncanny ability of making him forget that their extended family and friends were always just around the corner in the hotel. </p><p>Jon glared at Arya, but she seemed unsurprised yet still annoyed by the embrace she caught them in. </p><p>“Quit feeling up my sister, we’ve got places to be.” </p><p>Jon laced the hand not occupied with flipping Arya off with Sansa’s. He wouldn’t let Arya’s big mouth embarrass him, although the flush on Sansa’s chest indicated it was too little, too late for her. </p><p>When they were younger, Arya’s attempts to embarrass Sansa usually resulted in screaming matches that ended with both girls in tears, but now embarrassment caused Sansa to shy away and second guess herself thanks to those pricks she dated in the past who thrived on making her feel small. Not for the first time, Jon wanted to punch Harry Hardyng and Joffrey Baratheon in their smug blonde faces.</p><p>Jon couldn’t take the risk of her second guessing him and this heavy, pulsing thing between them. He wanted it more than he could admit. </p><p> (Truthfully, he wanted Sansa, in whatever way she would allow him to have her.) </p><p>“C’mon, Arya will behave,” he said, less as a statement and more as a plea to Arya. </p><p>Luckily, she was either bored by their conversation or had realized she was making Sansa uncomfortable because she simply threw a ‘whatever’ over her shoulder as she led the way towards the elevator. </p><p>“See?” he asked, but didn’t move to follow Arya. He would let Sansa lead when she was ready. </p><p>Sansa shot him a small, tentative smile. When he returned it and squeezed their interlocked hands, she seemed to find her footing again. </p><p>She raised her head, tossing her beautiful fiery hair, and shaking off their interruption. She smirked at him, the same knowing smirk she had given him down on the beach that morning, and started down the hall, tugging him along with her. </p><p>“Let’s go,” she said, the picture of composure. “I have a strict time limit on wearing these shoes and I’m not planning on wasting it standing around.”</p><p> *****</p><p>The large group of wedding party members and young guests was on its second bar, and everyone was somewhere between pleasantly tipsy and turning the corner to hammered. They had started the night at a causal pub for dinner and drinks, but their second stop was much more like the clubs Sansa frequented with Margaery during their university days, with a small dance floor and flashing, roving lights illuminating people dancing and drinking in fleeting bursts. Elinor, Margaery’s cousin and maid of honor, had chosen well when she planned to make this their second and final stop for the night. </p><p>Luckily for all of them - especially Theon and Arya, who were currently trying to match each other shot for shot in yaeger - the wedding wasn’t taking place until sunset the next day. </p><p>“C’mon Sansa, just one,” Margaery pleaded, waving a green tea shooter underneath her nose. “It’s your favorite…” </p><p>A chorus of encouragement from the rest of the bridesmaids joined Margaery’s pleading. Sansa rolled her eyes. Usually it was the maid of honor’s job to make sure everything went smoothly at the bachelorette party, but Elinor was already three sheets to the wind before they left the first bar. </p><p>So Sansa had chugged a glass of water, and was now pacing herself by sipping on a gin and tonic rather than indulging in shots. However, that seemed like it had come to an end. Margaery knew her weakness for green tea shooters. </p><p>“Fine,” she relented, throwing her hands up dramatically to the delight of those around her. “Just one.” </p><p>She pointed a warning finger at Margaery and grabbed the shot, downing it in short order without waiting to see if the girls were ready with their own shots. </p><p>She slammed the empty shot glass down on the table and was met with cheers and echoing thunks of other glasses. She laughed, holding a hand of her heart and thanking her adoring fans. </p><p>The song changed and Margaery was out of her seat in an instant, making a beeline to Robb at the bar and dragging him onto the packed dance floor before he could protest. </p><p>Sansa sighed and watched as the others at their table scrambled to join them. Once they were gone she leaned her head back against the bench and closed her eyes, grateful to have a moment to herself amidst the chaos. </p><p>“You’re feet already done in for?” The strain of Jon’s voice attempting to be heard over the music interrupted her solitude. </p><p>She blinked her eyes open and took stock of him lazily, enjoying the sight of his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The humidity of the night and press of bodies had forced him to unbutton his shirt lower than he usually would. Sansa’s eyes caught on the bit of chest hair peeking out. She had seen him shirtless just this morning, but there was something about his dishevelment that made her ache. </p><p>“Not yet,” she said. “Just having a moment.” </p><p>Jon nodded in understanding and sat next to her, raising his arm in invitation. She tucked herself against him, leaning her head against his shoulder and enjoying the smell of his cedarwood cologne mixed with the slight muskiness of his natural scent underneath it. </p><p>“Alright?” he asked, tracing his fingers lightly up and down her arm. It was soothing. She nodded. </p><p>“Just thinking,” she said. “I can’t believe they’re going to be married by this time tomorrow.” </p><p>“I can’t believe it took them this long,” Jon said. Sansa could hear his fond smile in his voice. “I thought for sure Robb would propose after a year of dating. He was so gone for her from the second they met.” </p><p>“It was sweet,” Sansa said, her own smile forming. “That he was so sure.” </p><p><em>I want that,</em> she didn’t say. <em>I want you to be sure.</em></p><p>“It was.”</p><p>They sat together in silence for the rest of the song. Sansa enjoyed the delicate press of Jon’s fingers causing pleasurable goosebumps to erupt in their wake. Eventually, he pushed her hair back and traced his fingers higher up, along her exposed collarbone. </p><p>She sighed and turned her head into his neck. He paused, but she shrugged her shoulder impatiently, pouting against his neck exaggeratedly so that he could feel her protruding lower lip until he resumed his motions. </p><p>The song changed again. This time to something slower and sexier. Something that encouraged the insistent press and grind of bodies against each other. </p><p>Sansa pulled away so she could look Jon in the eye. He grinned at her, eyes crinkling at the corners in a way they rarely did. A full, brilliant smile. </p><p>“How about that dance?” she asked. </p><p>His smile turned goading and he stood, offering her a hand as she attempted to slide out of the booth gracefully. She interlocked their fingers and squeezed, using her grip to pull him along with her onto the dance floor.</p><p> *****</p><p>They claimed a corner of the dance floor amidst the press of bodies and Sansa tugged Jon towards her, already moving her hips to the sensual beat of the song. </p><p>Jon allowed himself to be tugged, and raised his arm when he got close enough so that she could twist herself underneath it and press her back against his chest, their fingers still loosely interlocked over Sansa’s exposed chest. </p><p>“You know I’m not much of a dancer,” Jon yelled in Sansa’s ear to be heard over the pounding music and chatter. He was moving his hips in time with hers, pressing and grinding against her ass. It didn’t take much skill to dance like this, but Jon was ashamed to admit he lacked rhythm. </p><p>Sansa though, Sansa loved to dance and she was good at it. She took her share of dance classes when they were growing up; she had a dancer’s grace even now as she arched her back so that she could grind herself more firmly against his growing erection. </p><p>She turned her head. Their faces were a mere inch apart. Sansa’s eyes were hooded and dark as she gazed at his lips. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Jon wanted to kiss her, and he knew she would let him. </p><p>“You’re doing pretty good so far,” Sansa said. “Just follow my lead.” </p><p>Jon let out a low, pleased groan and moved the hand entangled with Sansa’s to rest dangerously low on her skirt. He pulled her even more flush against him - if such a thing was possible - and heard her make a high, needy sound in the back of her throat. </p><p>“Always, sweetheart.” </p><p>The song changed, and Sansa twisted herself along with the beat, pushing away from him for a moment to raise her hands above her head and wind her hips in a hypnotising circle. </p><p>Jon couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was enchanting. Just minutes ago he had watched her from his position at the bar as she brushed off shots and sat back in the booth rather than danced with her friends, but now she was practically a different person. She was uninhibited. </p><p>He stepped into her orbit and she crooked her finger, inviting him to entangle himself with her. Their chests were flush against each other, and Sansa lowered her hands to tangle in the damp hair at the back of his neck. Her nipples were pebbled and straining against her top despite the heat. <em>Gods,</em> she wasn’t wearing a bra. </p><p>He cupped her ass in his hands and guided her to grind herself against the thigh he positioned between her legs. </p><p>Fuck, he wanted to take her back to the hotel. But it was his best friend’s bachelor party. His best friend and her brother. Her <em>brother - </em>Jon whipped his head up, pulled from the heady haze of dancing with Sansa by the reminder that their family and friends were all around them. </p><p>Luckily, he spotted the back of Robb’s head locked in a heated embrace with his bride. Even more luckily, he couldn’t see Arya or Theon anywhere. </p><p>Sansa tugged on the hair at the back of his neck, directing his attention back to her. She raised her eyebrows in question, but he shook his head, dismissing her concern and his own worry about being discovered. Hadn’t Arya had already seen them in an equally intimate position without the excuse of alcohol and thumping music? And he was still alive. </p><p>Though, the damp heat of Sansa’s core circling on his thigh as she trailed open mouth kisses along his neck wasn’t helping matters on that front. </p><p>“Hells, you’re gonna kill me,” Jon panted in her ear. </p><p>Sansa nipped his pulse point in response. Tired of their day of teasing, Jon cupped her cheek and dragged her mouth to his in a hot, dirty kiss. Their tongues met, and Jon licked into Sansa’s mouth like he wanted to do to <em>other</em> parts of her body. His own body was alight with sparks at the thought.</p><p>His attraction to Sansa had been in the background of his life for years - probably since she was in college with him and Robb and she used to spend the night at their apartment rather than wait for her dorm-mate to bring a hook up home. But even when he woke up to Sansa making breakfast in Robb’s t-shirt and sweats, he never imagined it would be this intense between them. He had fantasized about them getting together a hundred different ways, but he never thought that they actually would. Much less, that torrid make outs in stolen corners would be how it happened. </p><p>If they even were getting together.</p><p>Sansa whined and jerked her hips against his thigh off rhythm once, twice, and then froze. It was the most erotic thing he had ever seen in his life. She panted against his mouth, her own lips swollen and damp. She was flushed and hazy-eyed, and she was gripping his hair almost painfully tight, but he would rather have her rip it out than let go. Gods, he <em>really</em> hadn’t thought it would be like this. </p><p>“Wow, um - I didn’t -” Sansa stuttered, a lifelong tell that she was embarrassed. She was usually too eloquent to stutter. </p><p>Jon kept a tight hold of her hips, but repositioned them so that his thigh wasn’t providing uncomfortable friction against where she was sensitive. Sansa’s face and chest were as red as her hair from sweat, arousal, and shyness. </p><p>“C’mon,” he said against her ear, swiping a quick kiss against her cheek and then pulling her in front of him to block his very obvious erection from view. He guided her by the small of her back towards the hallway leading to an emergency exit. </p><p>Once they were alone, Sansa turned from his hand and wrung her hands together in front of her. She kept her eyes focused on his shoulder, looking at him but not really looking at him. </p><p>“Jon,” she began, taking half a step back from him. He immediately froze. “I don’t think we should do this right now.” </p><p>Oh. He was an idiot. Such an idiot. If he could punch himself in the face without Sansa thinking he had lost his mind, he would. </p><p>“Sansa, shit, I’m so stupid. I did this all wrong, I misread you. You’re right, we shouldn’t be doing this. Fuck, I should go. I’m sorry. I-” </p><p>Sansa grabbed his hand, interrupting his panicked spiral. She leaned in, going to kiss him, but Jon took a step back, confused. </p><p>Why would she try to kiss him if she wanted them to stop whatever was going on between them? Did she not want it to go any further? Had it already gone too far?</p><p> *****</p><p>Sansa was confused. When Jon led her off the dance floor she had assumed they were going to call a cab back to the hotel, but when he brought her to an empty hallway she thought he wanted to pick things up in a more private area. And she wanted more than that. </p><p>She didn’t want this to be a bit of fun, or just getting back in the saddle with Jon only to move on to someone else. She didn’t want someone else. </p><p>But when she said something, he started rambling about it being Robb’s wedding, and him leaving, and <em>oh -</em></p><p>“Jon,” she said, hands outstretched beseechingly as if she was approaching a scared animal. “I think you misunderstood me.” </p><p>Jon nodded, pain written in his furrowed brow and the downward tilt of his kiss-bruised lips. </p><p>“I’m sorry, Sansa.” </p><p>“No, Jon,” she huffed in a combination of exasperation and amusement. He was too noble for his own good, the lovely idiot. “I mean, when I said that I don’t want to do this now I meant that I didn’t want to have a quickie in a hallway. I want to go back to the hotel. With you.” </p><p>Jon’s face immediately went blank with relief. Then, his mouth twisted again. </p><p>“I brought you back here because I wanted to talk to you in private. Sansa, I would never try to force you into doing something you aren’t comfortable with.” </p><p>Sansa rushed to assure him. He wasn’t like her previous boyfriends. She knew that. Despite the insecurities she had shared with Margaery, she just knew - she felt in her bones with a kind of certainty she had never felt in a relationship before - that Jon would do things at her pace. </p><p>“Of course not. I trust you, Jon” she said. “I’m saying this all wrong. What I’m trying to say is that I want more with you. I would absolutely fuck you in this hallway right now, it isn’t a matter of whether or not I want to.” Jon groaned as if her desire caused him physical pain. “I just want to do it knowing that this isn’t just a vacation fling for you. Because it isn’t for me.” </p><p>In reality it probably took less than thirty seconds for Jon to take her into his arms, hunger written in his tense muscles with every movement. But for Sansa those seconds stretched endlessly. </p><p>She waited, hands fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. Sweat and <em>other</em> substances were starting to dry on her skin. It was a humiliating, humbling feeling, especially with Jon staring at her like he had never seen her before. She hoped she looked better than she felt. </p><p>But either he didn’t care or was willing to put up with it, because he lurched forward and cupped her cheek in one hand and tugged her towards him with the other more gently than his urgent motion indicated. </p><p>His hand was warm and calloused against her cheek, and she usually hated people touching her face but she leaned into his palm like it had been carved with her face in mind. </p><p>“Baby,” he said softly. His voice was raw and deep and it made her shiver. “I really, <em>really</em> don’t want this to just be a fling. I just - I didn’t think you were interested in that. I didn’t know what you were interested in - we probably should have just talked about it, huh?” </p><p>When she smiled ruefully and nodded, he said, “I want to do whatever you want, at whatever pace you want, Sansa.” </p><p>Sansa turned her head to brush her lips against his palm. He was achingly sweet. Her heart was so full, so happy that her chest burned with it. </p><p>“This isn’t just about me, you know that right?” she asked. “I want to go at a pace that we both want to go at.” </p><p>Jon leaned in and brushed a kiss against her lips. </p><p>“I, uh, I would really like to take you on a date when we get home,” he whispered with his forehead pressed against hers, eyes closed. </p><p>Sansa watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. Even after all that he was nervous to ask her out. She rubbed her hands up and down his chest soothingly. </p><p>“That sounds nice,” she wondered if he could hear her smile when she answered. “I would really like you to take me back to your hotel room. Now.” </p><p>She melted into him, pressing herself fully against the hard lines of his body, bottom lip tucked in between her teeth. He moved his hand from her cheek to cup her chin, rubbing his thumb at the corner of her mouth. She instinctively parted her lips. Her breathing quickened, and she could feel her cheeks heat. </p><p>Jon dragged the pad of his thumb along her lip with his dark, hot gaze locked on hers. She wondered if he could see her lust reflected back at him like she could see his. </p><p>“So, hotel?” he asked, more wrecked than she had ever heard him. </p><p>“Hotel,” she confirmed.</p><p> *****</p><p>They managed to keep a respectable distance in the Uber back to the hotel. Jon knew - thanks to being an unfortunate witness to Sansa's previous relationships - that she thought it was unspeakably rude to makeout in the backseat of someone else’s car.  But if Jon’s hand rested a little high on Sansa’s thigh, well she didn’t seem to mind. </p><p>Jon continued that theme by placing his hand just a touch too low on her back as they walked through the hotel lobby, both keeping a brisk pace so as to avoid any wedding guests with awkward questions who may appear. Or Margaery’s grandmother Olenna, who was more likely to deeply embarrass them with pointed innuendos. </p><p>Once they made it to the elevator - which was blessedly empty - they exchanged heated kisses, eager to get to what they both knew was coming but unwilling to rush through the heady build up of it. </p><p>Sansa’s sweet, kiss-swollen mouth put Jon under a spell, all he wanted to do was keep exploring it with his own. The elevator could have gotten stuck and he doubted he would ever notice, too enthralled by the taste of Sansa on his tongue and the needy sounds she made.</p><p>The elevator's ding when it reached Jon’s floor was loud in the quiet of their embrace, causing him to jerk his head away from Sansa in surprise. She giggled and laced their hands together to tug him into the hall before the doors closed again. </p><p>Jon was too busy cataloging all of the ways he had wonderfully disheveled her - lipstick gone, hair a mess from his fingers, tight skirt sitting high on her thighs - to realize that she was waiting for him to lead the way. </p><p>“Jon?” she asked, bemused. He hummed in acknowledgment. She looked at him and then the tropical themed walls around them meaningfully. He got the hint, and gestured with his free hand but she hung back and let him lead. He hoped his neck wasn’t as red as it felt. </p><p>He reluctantly let go of her hand once they reached his door in order to fish for his door key. It took him multiple tries to get the door open, <em>of course,</em> because Sansa Stark had the innate ability to turn anyone into a bumbling idiot. </p><p>He finally pushed it open, leaning against it to let Sansa pass. She was pressing her lips together so as to not laugh at his ineptitude, but her eyes were dancing with mirth. </p><p>She was beautiful. </p><p>“Hi,” he said, his lips stretching into a smile around the word. </p><p>She twined her arms around his neck and pecked his mouth sweetly. A quick, soft “hello” kiss that spoke of the settled sort of intimacy, like the best worn-in old sweater on a cold night, that he hoped for one day; not the passionate, flirty teasing that they had shared so far during this trip. </p><p>It felt like love. </p><p>“Hi,” she said, snaking her arms around his waist and not letting go. He nudged her backwards so that he could let the door swing shut behind them. They shuffled awkwardly, still attached to each other, and he smiled. He was reminded of a younger Sansa, who used to cling to her little brothers like a sea urchin because she knew it bothered them but also knew little boys don’t always ask for affection when they need it. </p><p>“Hi,” he said again, like an idiot. His cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling.</p><p>Sansa laughed and leaned in, kissing him again, still sweet but with an undercurrent of that heat. </p><p>He moved his hands from her hips to her hair, tangling his fingers through the smooth, fiery strands and guiding her head so that he could kiss her more deeply. She moaned, and it was so much better than when they were pressed together on the crowded dance floor. He could hear her and feel that moan against his mouth without the pounding bass reverberating around them. </p><p>And, he realized, he hadn’t had her alone, in private yet. They had shared a cab and teased on the beach and stole kisses in hallways, but they hadn’t had a single moment together behind a closed door with a lock. </p><p>Tomorrow was the wedding and he likely wouldn’t get another moment alone with her until after the reception. His kisses took on a new sense of urgency. Now, it wasn’t about the fear of being discovered, or knowing that they could be missed at any moment, but the need to make the most of this chance to have her all to himself. </p><p>“I want you. Gods, I want you, Sansa,” he muttered as he broke away from her mouth to kiss down her neck. His hands slid to the small of her back, arching her against him, and it was her turn to tug at his hair. </p><p>He could feel her panting in need. He scraped his teeth against her collarbone, and she jerked her hands in his hair, pulling his hair hard enough to make him gasp.</p><p>He could feel her panting in need. He scraped his teeth against her collarbone, and she jerked her hands in his hair, pulling his hair hard enough to make him gasp.</p><p>“Jon, <em>Jon</em>,” she whimpered and tugged at his hair more deliberately, guiding his mouth down to the slope of cleavage that was made visible by the dip in her neckline.</p><p>After just a few seconds of his attention, she pulled back far enough to whip her top over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and he was so struck by the sight of her bare before him that he could have gotten on his knees right there to worship the Old Gods. Or her, preferably.   </p><p>He stepped towards her, but she matched it with a step backwards towards the bed with a wicked smile on her face. He tsked teasingly, taking another step. When she stepped backwards again, he gave chase. He crossed the room in three long strides, and caught her around the waist toppling them both down onto the bed. Her laughter turned to a breathless moan as he caught her mouth in a sloppy kiss, then made his way back down to her now bare breasts. </p><p>Sansa became more vocal with every lick and nip. Going from moans and sighs, to breathy pleas, to finally gasping out, “Fuck, Jon, I - <em>ah</em>- I need more, please, <em>please</em>.” </p><p>He released her nipple, and shushed her reassuringly, cupping the hand not occupied at her other breast along the side of her face. She caught the tip of his thumb with her teeth and then soothed it with her tongue. Soon, she was sucking at his thumb with her eyes burning into his. He cursed, reaching down to adjust himself. He was painfully hard. </p><p>Sansa noticed, releasing his thumb and pushing herself up so that her own hand could follow the path his had been making. She cupped him through his jeans, and he hissed in response. He wanted her hand on him, but there was something he wanted even more. </p><p>He pulled her hand away. Sansa pouted and made for his belt. He took hold of her wrist, looking at her intently as he did, and reached for the hand resting on the bed beside her. </p><p>Catching on to his plan, she allowed him to take hold of both of her wrists. He bore her back onto the bed, lifting her arms above her head and holding them in place. </p><p>Sansa’s teeth worried her bottom lip, but she was arched so tightly against him that he could feel her hard nipples against his chest through the shirt he was - beyond all reason - still wearing. </p><p>“Okay?” he asked, flicking his eyes to her hands meaningfully. She nodded. “Good. And will you keep them there for me?” </p><p>“Yes, yes,” she nodded frantically. </p><p>“That’s my girl.” </p><p>She moaned at that; a detail that he tucked away for later. He let go of her wrists slowly. When she didn’t move he smirked, pleased that she was playing along. He had a feeling that she would - had noticed the way she shivered when he called her his girl for the first time. </p><p>He made quick work of his clothes, leaving himself in just his boxer briefs. Sansa watched him with hungry eyes, but she kept her hands where he had placed them. He sat back on his heels to admire her. Red hair tousled across his pillow, raised arms drawing her tits up for his gaze and tipped with dusky pink nipples begging for his mouth. </p><p>“Gods, you look good like that baby,” he said. </p><p>Sansa moaned. “Jon, please.” </p><p>Jon hummed and leaned in. But instead of capturing her mouth with his, he teased her by skimming his lips up and down her stomach - staying focused on the swath of skin between her breasts and her hips. Her hands knotted in his hair and gave a sharp yank. </p><p>He relented, laughing, and pressed kisses up her chest, stopping to lave her rosy nipples with his tongue. Once they were flushed and shining from his mouth, he met her panting mouth with his in a kiss that was more teeth and tongue than finesse. Neither of them cared, content to breath each other in for the moment. </p><p>Until Jon’s hips unconsciously ground against her. He could feel how wet she was through the fabric of their underwear. He groaned and thrust against her again. Her hands came up from where he had placed them to wrap around his shoulders, urging him on. </p><p>He didn’t have enough presence of mind to chastise her for it, snapping his hips into her heat too intently to think of anything else. Anything else except - </p><p>“Fuck, baby I need inside of you,” he gasped against the love bite he was creating on the underside of her breast. </p><p>“Yes, yes, please, I need it,” Sansa moaned, reaching down to push at his briefs. He pulled back just enough for her to push them down, then kicked them the rest of the way off. “I’ve wanted you to fuck me since we got here.” </p><p>“I know baby,” he said, rubbing his cock against her drenched panties. </p><p>“No,” she said, and he froze, worried for a moment before she grabs his ass and grinds against him. “No, I mean since the airport - as soon as I saw you, before even.” </p><p>He kissed her then, tenderly - a juxtaposition to the filthy grinding of their hips. He hoped she knew what it meant. </p><p>“Me too,” he said, in case she didn’t.</p><p> *****</p><p>Sansa had never been so turned on in her life. Even what she considered the best sex of her life paled in comparison to rutting against Jon like a teenager. She would combust if he didn’t get inside her in the next five seconds. </p><p>“Get on with it then,” she sassed, digging her nails into his ass. He pinched one of her nipples in retaliation and she whined, getting impossibly wetter. “<em>Please.</em>” </p><p>“You know,” he said with a darkness to his voice that sent shivers down her spine. “I never told you could move your hands. My girl disobeyed me.” </p><p>Something hot unfurled low in her gut at those words. How Jon had hit on her most private fantasies so soon, she had no idea - but right now she really didn’t care. </p><p>“I’m sorry, I just need you so bad.” She deliberately pitched her voice higher and breathier, and guided his head so that he was looking at her wide, apologetic eyes rather than the way her tits bounced from the force of his cock thrusting against her soaking cunt. </p><p>She batted her eyelashes innocently even as she twisted her hips to catch her clit against the head of his cock. </p><p>“Brat,” he huffed, but pushed a strand of hair back from her damp temple so sweetly it made her chest tight. “You’ll pay for it later.” </p><p>She nodded fervently - she <em>wanted</em> to pay for it, and more than that, her heart warmed at the casual way he had brought up doing this again. Like it was a given. Like they were on the same page. She thought back to his admission of wanting her before this trip. Maybe they always had been on the same page and were both too cautious to make the first move. </p><p>Well, she was done being cautious with Jon. </p><p>With a hand firm on his shoulder, she shifted her weight and pushed him over so that she was straddling him. His hands automatically came to her hips, guiding her to rub against his straining cock. After a few circles of her hips - enough to have Jon cursing loudly - she lifted her hips up and pulled her panties to the side. </p><p>“Wait,” Jon looked like it was physically painful for him to stop her. “Do we need a condom?” </p><p>Sansa shook her head, but her heart warmed at the fact that he had stopped to ask. She was the one on top of him, but he still wanted to make sure she felt safe. “I have an IUD. And we’re both clean, right?” When Jon nodded, Sansa continued. “I trust you.” </p><p>She lined herself up with his cock, and slowly sunk down. </p><p>“Fuck.” </p><p>“Gods damn, baby.” </p><p>She moaned at the feeling of him fully seated inside her. His hands snaked around her to squeeze her ass, but he didn’t push her to start moving. </p><p>“You feel so good, better than I imagined. Gods Jon, you’re so good,” she babbled, slowly starting to rock her hips so that her clit rubbed against his pelvis. Her hands came up to pinch her nipples, and Jon swore again and tightened his grip on her ass. </p><p>“That’s it Sans, play with your tits for me baby. Your cunt feels perfect, so wet and tight around my cock. You wanna come baby?” She moaned, nodding along with his dirty mouth. “Use me baby, I wanna feel you come on my cock.” </p><p>She picked up her pace, grinding against him frantically - like she wished for when she was rubbing herself against his thigh on the dance floor an eternity ago, but was somehow still just a few hours ago. </p><p>Jon’s rough hands slid around from her ass to grip her hips again, helping her keep her rhythm as she got closer to the edge. </p><p>“That’s my girl.You’re getting close, huh baby?” Jon growled. His eyes were glued to the way she twisted her nipples. The look on his face said that he was obviously itching to give up his light thrusting and flip her over, but the fact that he didn’t - that he let Sansa do as she pleased made her hot all over. </p><p>She clenched around him and moved her hands to his chest, balancing herself to thrust more vigorously against him. </p><p>“That’s it, Sansa. There’s a good girl. My girl’s so good for me, aren’t you? You gonna come for me like a good girl?” </p><p>“Yes,” she gasped, feeling the crest of her orgasm just out of reach. She was so close. “I’m a good girl, please - <em>please</em>, I’m so -” </p><p>Her orgasm peaked then, whiting out her mind with pleasure. She jerked against Jon, riding it out, squeezing his hips between her thighs so that he wouldn't move. She couldn’t remember the last time she had come so hard. </p><p>She had gotten herself off thinking of Jon every night since they had come to the Summer Isles (and countless other times since her teenage sexual awakening, if she was being honest with herself), but her own hand and imagination paled in comparison to the real thing. </p><p>Slumping against his chest like a puppet with its strings cut, she came down from her high. He kissed her mussed hair and banded his strong arms around her, content to give her a minute despite his hard cock still sheathed inside her. </p><p>After a moment he grunted a “c’mon baby” and shifted them so that she was on her back again. He sat back on his knees, slipping out of her as he did. She whined at the loss. </p><p>He tugged her ruined panties down her legs and threw them over his shoulder. Then, tugged her boneless body towards him by a calf - which he then propped against his shoulder. She watched hungrily as he gave himself a couple of quick strokes. </p><p>“Ready?” he asked, nudging the tip of his cock against her opening. She nodded. </p><p>He thrust into her with none of the slowness she had used when she sunk down on him. She moaned loudly. She hoped the people in the neighboring rooms were heavy sleepers for their own sakes. </p><p>He pistoned his hips into her, fucking her hard. She was too wrung out from her orgasm to do much more than tilt her hips up towards him, but it was still maddeningly good. </p><p>Much to her surprise, she felt another orgasm approaching. </p><p>“Harder,” she panted, reaching her hand down to her clit. Jon thrust into her harder; his eyes followed her hand downward to where they were joined. </p><p>“That’s right baby, touch yourself for me,” he panted. </p><p>It only took a few light circles before she came again. The fluttery pulsing of her second orgasm was nowhere near as intense as her first - or even the one she had in the bar - but she had never had two orgasms so close together before. </p><p>She was still enjoying the sensation when Jon gave a few quick, shallow thrusts and came inside her. Another first for her. </p><p>Jon’s orgasm seemed to leave him as wrung out as her first had left her. He pulled out of her gingerly, aware of how sensitive she was, and collapsed next to her on the bed. They were silent for a moment, catching their breath, and then a giggle bubbled up from her lips and she was laughing without quite knowing why. </p><p>Jon turned onto his side towards her and reached out to tug her against him. </p><p>“What’s funny?” he asked, an amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth. </p><p>“Nothing,” she giggled. “Only - I mean, all of Seven Hells and Heavens, Jon. I don’t want to stroke your ego, but I’m not sure my legs work right now.” </p><p>He stroked his hand soothingly up and down her thigh for a moment, then pinched her quickly. </p><p>“Hey!” She swatted his chest without any strength behind it. He caught her hand and kept it pressed against his chest, interlacing their fingers and squeezing in silent apology. </p><p>“Was just checking they still had feeling,” he said. She rolled her eyes. </p><p>“Well they do,” she said primly. She used the hand he was holding to his chest to push him to his back and crawled over him. </p><p>He stilled her with a hand on her back when she was splayed out on top of him. </p><p>“I gotta clean up,” she explained. He didn’t let go. “Jon -” </p><p>“You’re not leaving are you?” he asked. She had never had someone ask that before. Usually they either assumed she would stay, or all but pushed her out the door. </p><p>“No, just going to the bathroom.” </p><p>“Good.” He let her go then, and she pushed herself to her feet. </p><p>She was halfway to the bathroom when he called her name. She turned, eyebrows raised in question. </p><p>“Your legs look pretty stable to me. Guess I have to work harder next time.”</p><p> *****</p><p>Sansa had left his room with her underwear stuffed into her little clutch bag just before seven in the morning. She leaned over him and brushed a light kiss against his lips before she left. </p><p>“It’s too early,” he said, still mostly asleep. </p><p>“Gotta beat the breakfast service if I want to avoid wedding guests,” she reasoned. </p><p>He grumbled again and she pursed her lips to keep from laughing. </p><p>“Have a nice lay-in,” she urged. “You boys don’t have anything planned before the ceremony until this afternoon.” </p><p>With a last kiss to his cheek, she left. He was back to sleep before the door swung shut. </p><p>Now, it was hours later. Jon was in his charcoal grey wedding suit and knocking on the door of the bridal suite. </p><p>It was Arya who answered. She wasn’t a bridesmaid - too many Tyrell cousins to fill those spots - but she was part of the girls’ pre-wedding festivities and was getting her makeup done by the artists Margaery hired. </p><p>“Come to accost my sister again, Snow?” </p><p>He reached to rustle up her hair, but she dodged him and slapped his hand away. </p><p>“Hey! Don’t touch the hair, or Margaery and I will both kill you.” </p><p>“Don’t make insinuations about me and your sister where your mom can overhear, then,” he retorted. </p><p>Arya stuck her tongue out. “What do you want?” </p><p>Jon craned his neck to try to catch a glimpse inside, a glimpse of Sansa. “I - uh - Robb sent me with a gift for Marge. Can I come in?” </p><p>“Is everybody decent? Best Man entering,” she called behind her, opening the door wider to allow him in. </p><p>The suite was huge and filled to the brim. The women of the wedding party, and of the immediate Stark and Tyrell families, were joined by their makeup artists and most of the photography team. Only one assistant was dispatched to take pictures of the men getting ready and sharing a quick toast to Robb. </p><p>Arya led him to a closed door. She rapped her knuckles on it twice. When no one answered she knocked again and said, “Sansa, is Margaery dressed?”</p><p>A second later, Sansa appeared at the door. She was radiant. Her hair was artfully waved, a few pieces pulled back from her face. The pistachio green of her dress complemented her complexion as if Margaery had picked it based on Sansa alone, and the fabric clung to her - thin and flowing over her like water. </p><p>The dress was something he could picture her wearing on any spring day, maybe for Sunday brunch at her parents’ house. When Robb and Margaery had announced their engagement he had imagined a lavish display of a wedding, far beyond anything he would be comfortable with. But instead they had decided on a sunset ceremony overlooking the beach, and the wedding party reflected that choice. </p><p>“Seven Hells, would you two like to take this eye fucking someplace private?” </p><p>Sansa flushed scarlet and shot Arya a glare. “Shhh! Mom might hear you!” </p><p>“Yeah, well your bedroom eyes might make me barf all over my dress, so I’m doing everyone a favor,” Arya snapped. “Besides, if I didn’t interrupt the two of you would stand here for eternity and Margaery would never get her <em>gift</em>."</p><p>Right, Jon was there on official business. Not to try to get Sansa out of her dress in a closet. Certainly not. </p><p>Sansa rolled her eyes at Arya, then turned to Jon. “You can come in, Margaery is just taking a moment to herself.”</p><p>“Is she alright?” Jon asked. </p><p>“Of course I am, Jonathan,” Margaery said from her position by the window. She was still in a silk robe that had “Bride” embroidered on the back in elegant script, but her hair was pulled back in a curly updo and her makeup was done in what he had heard Sansa call a “natural smokey” look. “Just hiding from my mother for a moment. And overseeing the set up, of course.” </p><p>From over her shoulder Jon saw that the window overlooked the terrace where the ceremony would take place in another two hours and the private balcony where she and Robb would have their first look. </p><p>“You look beautiful Margaery,” he said, leaning in to barely brush his lips against her cheek. He didn’t doubt that she would physically unman him if he smudged her makeup. She had come close before for lesser offenses. </p><p>“I think there’s someone else who deserves your compliments, Jonathan,” Margaery said after they parted. The gleam in her eyes was put there by mischief rather than any bridal sensitivity. </p><p>He heard Sansa make a huffy noise behind him, a telltale sign that she had been the subject of teasing long before he turned up. </p><p>“I think the bride gets first dibs on compliments on the wedding day. Besides, I’m hoping if I’m really nice you’ll take pity on me and give me a second alone with her.” </p><p>Margaery laughed and Arya groaned exaggeratedly. “Go on then, let’s have this gift and then I’ll leave you to ravish her.” </p><p>Jon held out the small box, obviously holding jewelry of some kind, and the note that Robb had entrusted to him. </p><p>“I suppose I should get a couple good pictures of me opening this. Only <em>minor</em> ravishing now, Jon. I don’t need to pay the hair and makeup team anymore than I already am.” </p><p>Margaery swanned out of the room with her usual grace, despite practically shoving Arya out of the door ahead of her. And as soon as the lock clicked, Jon was across the room taking Sansa in his arms. </p><p>As he kissed her, he kept his hands dutifully away from her hair, low on her back - despite the habit of running his hands through it he knew he was already forming.  It was only after several long, slow kisses that they separated. Her lips swollen, but makeup mercifully intact - at least to his inexpert eyes. </p><p>“You’re stunning, Sansa,” he said, and he knew his voice was embarrassingly hoarse, but he had blown past the point of caring several miles back. </p><p>She whispered her thanks, tilting back in his arms so that she could get a look at him. Her lipstick must have transferred, because she rubbed a thumb across his mouth. He nipped at it, eyes hot. </p><p>They could probably squeeze in a couple more minutes before someone noticed she was missing. Right? </p><p>Wrong, of course. Because he leaned in to kiss her again - hoping that he could get under her dress and get his mouth on her if he promised not to crease it - when someone knocked on the door. </p><p>“Sansa,” Catelyn Stark called, hand already turning the doorknob. </p><p>Jon and Sansa hastily stepped away from each other, but by the displeased look on her face, Catelyn had already noticed how intertwined they were. </p><p>Jon looked away from her piercing gaze as if he was once again a twelve year old who had kicked a ball through her window. </p><p>“Margaery is about to get dressed, Sansa” she said pointedly. Sansa nodded and let her know she would be out in a minute, but Catelyn did not react to the obvious dismissal. “You missed a bit of lipstick there, dear.” </p><p>Jon blushed scarlet. Because she was looking at him, hand motioning to the corner of her own mouth to show him where Sansa had not rubbed off all of her offending lipstick. </p><p>Jon rubbed at his mouth furiously. Sansa rolled her eyes, and shot her mother a glare. Catelyn raised her hands in surrender and walked away, leaving the door wide open as a silent warning. </p><p>“Sorry,” Sansa said, stepping into him and straightening his collar. Jon just kissed her hair in response. “I’ll see you soon for pictures?” </p><p>“Yeah, Robb’s probably wondering where I am by now.” He pressed a final kiss to her hair. As he stepped away he trailed his fingers down the smooth satin of her dress from rib cage to hip. He squeezed her hip fondly. “You really do look beautiful.” </p><p>Sansa smiled, full and genuine, and said, “I would kiss you again but I really don’t think we’ll hear the end of it if you leave this room with lipstick anywhere near you.” </p><p>Jon left her giggling to herself with a self-satisfied smirk on his face and a barely visible smudge of lipstick just under his jaw.</p><p> *****</p><p>“Oi, Snow! Who in the bridal suite is leaving lipstick on your neck?” </p><p>“Shut up, Theon.”</p><p>“No, wait really - who is leaving lipstick on you, Jon?”</p><p>“Uh...I think the photographer is probably ready for us on the balcony.”</p><p> *****</p><p>“I hope you still have your panties on under that dress.”</p><p>“Don’t lie, Marge you would prefer if I didn’t. You were just lamenting the lack of scandal at your wedding.” </p><p>“It’s very out of character for a Tyrell event!” </p><p>“Mention Sansa’s underwear in my presence again and I will cause a different kind of scandal. The bloody kind.”</p><p> *****</p><p>The ceremony was perfect, just as Sansa knew it would be. Margaery looked stunning and Robb was emotional from the moment he saw her. Their vows were touching, with just a pinch of humor. And when Robb choked up talking about the moment he knew he was going to marry Marge, Sansa could hear a collective sniffle from the rest of the bridal party. </p><p>Standing up there, watching her best friend and brother get married, was the first time throughout all of the wedding festivities that Sansa wished she was Margaery’s Maid of Honor. But it was for an embarrassingly selfish reason. </p><p>Sansa was a romantic. She may hide it better than she did when she was a child, but she had a stack of romance novels by her bed at home and religiously watched her favorite rom coms on her nights in. </p><p>She wanted her and Jon to have <em>that</em> moment. The one that always happens between a best man and maid of honor; where the bride and groom are exchanging vows but the people behind them can’t look away from each other, because those vows resonate so deeply for them that - just for a moment -  the wedding melts away. </p><p>But they didn’t, and that’s okay. Because while Jon fulfilled his Best Man duties and gave a speech during the reception, his eyes never left hers for a single second. </p><p>“No offense to other couples in the room,” Jon said. “But I have never seen a happier, more successful marriage than Ned and Catelyn Stark. They taught me, and Robb and all of us kids, what marriage is supposed to be. It’s love, family, and loyalty - but it’s also the less obvious things. It’s respect, and it’s hard work. It’s negotiation and planning, but also spontaneity. It’s knowing a person, down to their bones. And building a life with them, stone by stone. </p><p>“I know that Robb knows this. Because we both listened when Ned told us that we might not know right away when we meet the person we’re going to spend the rest of our lives with. That first spark of attraction - which we all know that Robb and Margaery had - is child’s play compared to the overwhelming rightness you feel when you know you are building that ife with the right person. Marge is Robb’s right person, and as his best friend, I cannot thank her enough for that.” </p><p>A glassy-eyed Robb practically leapt from his seat to hug Jon, as guests applauded. Sansa dabbed at her own brimming eyes. She saw her mother doing the same at the table her parents shared with her Uncle Benjen, Margaery’s parents, and Olenna. </p><p>Jon returned to his seat with a sheepish smile on his face. He hated public speaking, she knew, but he took his Best Man duties very seriously. He had spent almost all of his flight from Mereen working on the speech. Sansa shot him a fond smile from across the table.</p><p><br/>
</p><p>Later, when dinner had been served and guests were taking full advantage of the open bar and large dance floor, Jon sat beside her at an empty table in the back of the reception hall tracing his fingers back and forth over the exposed skin of her back beneath her hair and whispering in her ear. </p><p>“How long, do you think, before they notice we’re hiding away back here?” </p><p>Sansa scoffed into her champagne flute. “I think half my family noticed immediately, and we’re seconds away from Robb coming over.” </p><p>“Seconds?” he asked, brow furrowed. Sansa tilted her head towards Robb, whom she had watched break away from his new wife at the song change to head for the bar in the corner across from where they were sitting. Only he wasn’t going to the bar anymore. He had spotted them, and was just steps away from their table, held up by well-wishers. </p><p>Jon swore under his breath and straightened in his seat, but didn’t move his arm from her chair. Sansa rolled her eyes. <em>Boys.</em></p><p>Robb escaped his guests and approached the table, making a dramatic show of eyeing where Jon’s hand disappeared behind her back. Jon didn’t move it, just grimaced in anticipation of an outburst. </p><p>Robb stood across the table from them, trying - and failing in Sansa’s opinion - to look intimidating. Sansa just sipped her champagne and shot him an unimpressed look. She didn’t owe her brother an explanation on her love life.</p><p>She didn’t know what he saw on their faces, but he must have been satisfied - again, not that it was his business - because his bravado deflated and he sunk into a chair across from them with a smirk on his face. </p><p>“So Arya and Marge weren’t kidding, huh?” </p><p>“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p.’ They hadn’t talked about it yet, but Sansa wasn’t planning on hiding their relationship from her family even though she didn’t want to take away any focus from the bride and groom. She remembered Jon’s reaction when she had suggested that her brother or father might walk in on them kissing that first time, and looked to him in askance, hoping he wouldn’t be upset. </p><p>“Depends on what they said,” Jon answered with a teasing smile on his face. “Knowing Arya, she probably told you she caught us half naked in the hallway or something.” </p><p>“Gross,” Robb grimaced. “No, I overheard them trying to make a bet on how long it would take for you guys to admit you were together, but they decided you’re too disgustingly obvious to try to hide it so it wouldn’t be much of a bet.” </p><p>Sansa shared a smile with Jon. The exaggerated disgust aside, their family’s approval of them was touching. They exchanged a short, sweet kiss - willing to take the risk of nosey guests noticing them. When they parted Jon tugged her into his side, kissing her temple and resuming his exploration of her back. </p><p>“I know it might seem weird to you Robb, but I think we have been heading here for awhile now. We’re more similar than we ever realized. And, I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I’ve liked Jon for a long time now.” </p><p>Robb smiled that soft, indulgent smile of an older brother. The smile he had given her as a little girl when she begged him to play princess with her. </p><p>“I think you’re right,” he said, tentatively. “I never would have pictured you two together, but now that I see it I think that you’re a good match.” </p><p>“We think so too,” Jon quipped. Sansa giggled and leaned in to kiss him again. </p><p>She barely even noticed the napkin Robb threw at them as he left, muttering to himself about how “Arya was right, I’m going to be sick.”</p><p> *****</p><p>They were in her room this time - she said she liked her bridesmaid dress too much to leave it crumpled on his floor all night - enjoying the afterglow together. The payback he had promised her for disobeying him the night before had been given in full. Hopefully leaving her legs unsteady enough that he would have to carry her to the bathroom soon to clean up. Maybe in the bath. </p><p>“Hey,” he said. “I wanna tell you something.”  </p><p>“Okay, she hummed contentedly against his cheek. “Is it that you love me?”</p><p>He chuckled. Her voice was faux nonchalant, her favorite tone when she was feeling mischievous. Robb was right when he said they were suited for each other. Jon thought Sansa might be able to read him better than anyone. </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>“Okay, go ahead.” </p><p>The hand on the small of her back slipped downward to swat her already pink bottom. </p><p>“Ouch,” she giggled, cancelling out her complaint. “Is that any way to start a love confession?” </p><p>“You kind of stole my thunder, sweetheart.” </p><p>She pulled back to look him in the eyes, genuine pout on her face. </p><p>“It’s not the same,” she asserted firmly.   </p><p>Jon captured her pouting lower lip and sucked. He was weak when it came to that lip and she knew it. </p><p>“Say it,” she whispered, fingers tugging at the hair at the back of his neck. “Please.”  </p><p>“I love you, Sansa.” </p><p>The words rolled off his tongue, no hesitation.  He didn’t think any words had ever come so easily to him. Like they had always been living in his mouth unbeknownst to him. </p><p>She beamed, a brighter smile than he had ever seen - even brighter than her smile when Robb and Margaery had kissed as husband and wife for the first time. </p><p>“I love you, too.” </p><p>He thought the words may have been living on her tongue, too.</p><p> *****</p>
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